


The Dream That I Once Knew

by Ceares



Category: Leverage
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Character of Color, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceares/pseuds/Ceares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><s> Five</s> Six ways the team never came together</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dream That I Once Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: General spoilers for all seasons.  
> Written for the [](http://fivetimesbb.livejournal.com/profile)[**fivetimesbb**](http://fivetimesbb.livejournal.com/) Bitty Bang  
>  A million thanks to [](http://meatball42.livejournal.com/profile)[**meatball42**](http://meatball42.livejournal.com/) for the terrific, life saving beta and to [](http://kadams27.livejournal.com/profile)[**kadams27**](http://kadams27.livejournal.com/) for the gorgeous art(just look at it!)
> 
>  
> 
> [ ](http://s3.photobucket.com/albums/y100/ceares/?action=view&current=cearesethereal.png)

Link to Art:[Here](http://kadams27.livejournal.com/10714.html)  


 

 

1\. **The Battle of the Bands Job**

 

Mod Squad: The Rolling Stone Interview

_The origin of the band’s name is obvious. They do indeed fit the mold of ‘one white, one black, one blonde’. That might be the only mold they come close to though. What they are is a fusion band that popped up on the indie scene a few years ago, and what they’ve done is outsell every other album this year and receive five Grammy nominations, not to mention build a fanbase that encompasses millions from tweens to college students, middle aged businessmen to senior citizens._

_The interview is in the loft that the three bandmembers share, above a traditional Irish bar. The loft takes up the whole floor and includes a recording studio which their PR person, Sophie Devereaux walks me through. The living room we’re in is a huge open space that blends into a kitchen space with state of the art appliances and utensils that are clearly not just for show._

_“Eliot cooks for us.”_

_“Boy can throw down!”_

_And indeed, after sampling hors’doeuvres laid out for a later gathering, I have to agree._

_Their manager, Nate Ford wanders in and out of the room with a drink in one hand and a phone to his ear while Ms. Devereaux sits in the corner eyes on the photographer and this interviewer._

_“Nate’s the Mastermind. He put the group together.”_

_Mastermind might be the word for it considering very few other people would have seen the potential in a classical/country/soul fusion band and even fewer would have been able to pull together such seemingly disparate personalities. However Nate Ford has a reputation. He used to be a big name in A &R at Sony before a falling out between them left him absent from the record business for a few years. When he showed back up on the scene, it was with Mod Squad._

_Eliot Spencer who sings, plays guitar and does lyrics comes off as a ‘good ole boy’ with a disarming smile and soft drawl--none of it hides the quiet, almost scary intensity he projects._

_Alec Hardison who plays violin, some piano and composes is a self proclaimed geek who waxes rhapsodic about World of Warcraft and the latest gadgets from Apple. He’s gregarious and talkative and frequently touches the other two._

_Parker (just Parker, like just Cher or just Madonna, though Alec snorts a laugh when I bring it up, and Eliot says 'more like just can’t pronounce her last name’) sings and plays the tambourine._

_Parker grins the little half smile that has inspired multiple imitations. “It’s a joke.You know, because the pretty girl in the band plays the tambourine.”_

_It wouldn’t be a joke if it wasn’t for the fact that Parker is an integral part of the band, singing lead on nearly half their songs and playing the hell out of that tambourine._

_She is notoriously shy and her bandmates are very protective of her. For most of the interview,she sits between them on the sofa, knees pulled up to her chin while they lean forward, in effect creating a wall between her and the interviewer._

__

 

__

 

_“This dick Dubenich was running some kind of scam as a promoter. Booked us all at the same club on the same day. Nate was in there having a drink.”_

_Hardison rolls his eyes at Eliot’s description. “Or five.”_

_Parker snorts. “He was pretty drunk.”_

_“Guys!” Ms. Devereaux’s protest is drowned out by Ford who has come back in the room._

_“Drunk enough to think putting the three of you together was a good idea.” He tips back the last of his drink and sets the glass on the counter, leaning back against it. “I still thought it was a good idea when I sobered up.”_

_Any of them seems a strong candidate for a solo career and I ask if that’s in the offing._

_“We’ve all done that. It ain’t happening again.” One hand moves in a familiar motion to flip golden brown locks out of his face and Spencer’s southern drawl contains a fierceness to it that tells its own story._

_“It’s better together.” Parker pipes up. The three of them exchange glances that again talk of things this interviewer can only imagine._

_There’s frequent speculation on the world wide web that the group is ‘together’ in the biblical sense.. They certainly wouldn’t be the first band to add a romantic element to their grouping and no doubt not the first to engage in a polyamorous connection if the rumors about them are indeed true._

_Despite the fact that everything about everybody is available twenty-four seven on the web, there’s not much background information about the three of them. Bringing it up leads to a fierce glare and a decided ‘no’ from Ms. Devereaux._

_I ask instead about the way they’re coping with sudden success and visibility._

_“It’s cool more people get to hear our music.”_

_“Yeah, but it can get a little crazy sometimes.” Hardison shrugs and looks at Eliot._

_“It is what it is. We deal.”_

_Some of the ways they ‘deal’ violate most of the rules for success in the music industry. They do short tours and perform in small venues only, they rarely give interviews--this one was a favor to an editor who once did something for somebody on their team (again, that level of secrecy kicks in and no straight story is ever given) and they disappear for weeks at a time. Somehow all these things add to their allure, intriguing fans and boosting their popularity._

_I ask the question I use to conclude my interviews--hopes, dreams, plans for the future._

_The three of them exchanges looks again and I don’t even think they’re aware that they lean into each other._

_Spencer smirks his patented ‘bad boy’ smirk. “We’re gonna give up a life of fame and fortune and become do-gooder vigilantes.”_

_Parker nods earnestly and Hardison grins. “Oh yeah, we’ve got it all worked out.”_

_“They’re kidding! You know they’re kidding right?” Ms. Devereaux’s voice is full of exasperated amusement._

_I assure her I know it’s a joke, though if anybody could, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Mod Squad; after all, they’ve already made the impossible work._

__

 

__

 

 

2\. **The Mmm, mmm Good Job**

 

Parker stormed into the kitchen and slammed the full plate down on the counter. “He sent it back, again!”

Eliot frowned and picked up his favorite carving knife. “What the hell! I swear I’m going to kill that guy.”  
Nate hid a grin and raised a placating hand but before he could say anything, Sophie came in, expression furious. “That little bastard had nerve enough to insult not only my singing but my outfit!” She gestured to the slinky sequined dress that clung in all the right places. “I look fabulous.”

Nate took her hand and placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “You do indeed.” He glanced around at all of his pissed off employees. Parker had her arms folded, a mutinous expression on her face, and Eliot was still looking murderous and running a finger along the blade of his knife.

“Guys, don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

He headed out of the kitchen into the restaurant proper and then made a u-turn to the bar. Hardison was regaling clients with his ‘unique’ ability to pick the perfect drink for anybody, anytime, anywhere or it was on the house. The game had increased his tips by fifty percent and Hardison was generous, sharing with the rest of the crew so Nate let him have free reign. He was enough of a professional to keep it under control most of the time, though the kid did get a little carried away with his own cleverness occasionally.

Hardison saw Nate heading his way and grinned, keeping up a steady stream of chatter while he grabbed two glasses. He pulled down Nate’s private stock from the top shelf and had the two glasses poured by the time Nate reached him. Nate held up one in a silent thank you then downed it, savoring the smooth burn. Hardison had the glass refilled almost before it had settled on the bar.

Nate grinned at him and picked up both glasses, heading over to table thirty four and his former co-worker and current all around pain in the ass, James Sterling. Jim believed if he harassed Nate enough, Nate would give up the restaurant and go back being a food critic. He repeated some form of his ‘we judge them, Nate, we don’t _become_ them. You don’t belong here.’ speech every time he came by.

 

 

 

They all sat around the table, eating off the platter Eliot had provided while Hardison and Parker counted out tips and Nate worked on the books.

“Nate what did you do to this guy anyway, shoot his dog? Sleep with his woman?”

Hardison stopped what he was doing and stared at Eliot. “Seriously? That’s what you come up with? Is that how you make enemies, Eliot?”

Parker gave one of her sharp, barking laughs. “Maybe he sleeps with the dog and shoots the women.”

“Hey!”

Nate continued doing his paperwork and listened with an absent-minded affection as their voices rose and fell. Sterling was wrong. This was absolutely where he belonged.

 

 

3\. **The Pret a’ Porter Job**

 

“You gonna steal my soul with that thing?”

Alec smiles and keeps taking pictures. “A little bit.” He’s heard that as a joke a thousand times but something about this girl makes him think she believes it.

She frowns. “Stealing’s bad.”

“This is more like sharing though. I take a little bit and share it with everybody.” In a sense it’s really how Alec thinks of his pictures--a little piece of someone or something shared with the world. When he’s at work all he shares are the fake bits so he tries to make up for that some on his own time.

Well, technically he’s still on House of Devereaux time but Sophie and Eliot are arguing about the latest designs and Nate is conspicuously surfing job hunting sites in his usual passive- aggressive protest style. Alec and Eliot are in the off again stage of their thing so he won’t even get frustration sex from Eliot later, which is why he’s outside with his Polaroid instead of in the studio snapping photos of models. He takes another picture, waits for it to develop and hands it over.

She takes it and looks at it, still frowning. “We’re supposed to share, but I don’t like to.”

Alec laughs. “That’s okay too, baby girl.”

“I lied before." She leans in close to him. “It’s okay to steal sometimes, though only if you’re good at it.”

“What’s your name?”

“Alice.”

Alec wants to touch her but he has a feeling that wouldn’t go over very well. There’s a Starbucks on the corner--well there’s one on every corner, but it gives him an idea. “Okay, Alice. How about I buy you...” He tilts his head, observing her again for a moment. “A cup of hot chocolate and we can talk about stealing versus buying.” He knows he’s gotten it right when her eyes widen like a little kid’s.

“I love chocolate.”

 

Bringing Alice back to the studio was probably not one of Alec’s smartest ideas but she’s already blown off her temp job for the day, not to mention that after the third hot chocolate, she’s practically bouncing off the walls and he’s kind of afraid to let her back into the world unsupervised. Besides, something about her makes it hard for him to just say goodbye.

Alice stares at the drawings with eyes squinted and finally she pokes at one. “That looks like a beheaded chicken.”

Alec chokes back a laugh and prepares to step between her and Eliot, but Eliot snarls his ‘I hate to be wrong’’ snarl instead of the ‘I’m going to kill you with my pencil’ one and snatches his drawing off the board, balling it up and tossing it into the overflowing trash.

Sophie claps her hands. “I’ve been trying to get rid of that blasted thing for a week.” She turns and loops her arm through Alice’s. Hardison watches carefully, Alice flinches a little but she doesn’t pull away. “I like you, you can stay. What did you say your name was again?”

“Alice.”

Sophie’s voice fades slowly as she leads Alice back to her office. “Hmm, that won’t work. It’s terribly ordinary, and you’re far from ordinary my dear. How about Fallon? Or Colby or Parker? I think you look like a Parker.“

 

 

4\. **The Fairytale Job**

 

When Eliot got to the tower, the Princess he was there to rescue was halfway down the wall and descending rapidly. She had made some kind of harness and rope contraption and came down as if she had wings. He pulled out his paperwork and checked. Nope, no fairy or other winged creature indicated in her heritage.

He watched from a distance until she was almost to the bottom then rode over to her, waiting patiently until she took a final small leap and landed on the ground with a big grin. She patted the jeweled tiara that had miraculously stayed perched on her head and bent over to retrieve the bag she’d lowered to the ground first.

“Princess.”

She jerked up, startled. “Oh, I’m not the Princess. I just stole her jewels. She doesn’t need them anyway, she’s sleeping or something.” She tilted her head. “Are you Prince Smarmy?”

“Charming!” It was growled out. “And no. I work for a private contractor who’s interested in the Princess.”

The fake Princess nodded knowingly and gave him a big, conspiratorial grin. “Oh! You’re here to steal her.”

“Retrieve! I retrieve things.”

“Yeah, like I said. Steal.” She tilts her head to the side, watching him with a look that makes him nervous. “I can help you.”

Eliot shakes his head because he’s not crazy. “Don’t need any help, thanks.”

“You’re gonna. I’ve been in there remember? There’s like a kajillion spells wound around her.” She fondles the tiara. “They didn’t care so much about her stuff though. You’re gonna need a Wizard.”

Eliot curses. He was afraid of this but Lord Sterling assured him the Princess had only minimal protection. He’s really gonna kill that guy one day. “It’s not like I got one on speed dial.”

Fake Princess smirks. “I know where to find one.”

Eliot sighs and gives in. He hates not completing a job. It looks terrible on his resume and frankly just pisses him off. “Fine. Ten percent.”

“Pfft! Thirty.”

“Fifteen.”

They eye each other and both say it at the same time. “Twenty.”

 

Parker--that’s her name, or at least the one she gives him--flat out refuses to ride his horse. She leads him to the car she’s hidden a few miles down from the castle and Eliot winds up using every prayer he’s ever learned by the time she pulls up in front of the hotel.

 

Eliot groans when he sees the MMORPG convention going on. “Parker, these guys aren’t real Wizards!”

Parker rolls her eyes and him and grabs his hand pulling with surprising strength, or maybe not so surprising considering the way she came down that tower. “Some of them are, dummy. You just have to know where to look.”

Apparently where to look is through the janitor’s closet, behind the wall, down a creepy, narrow staircase in the dark--which Parker navigates like she’s part cat (which actually now that Eliot thinks about it, would explain a lot). They come to a solid looking wall at the end of the hall which shimmers just a bit when Eliot squints. Parker steps right through, dragging him with her.

The room looks like something from those old Arabian Nights movies, decorated in rich jewel tones, draped in silk and satin fabric, with chests of gold and jewels scattered around. The five people in the present all look up from the large scale model game board. Eliot peers at the board again and realizes that the figures are moving. He takes a step back. This is _not_ a good idea.

Parker leans over and whispers loudly. “I once stole a jewel encrusted scepter from one of these guys.” She shakes her head. “It was not pretty. Well, the scepter was, but the warts--not so much.”

Parker looks around and finally points to a tall, dark Wizard with a faintly bored expression on his face. “He’s the best.” Again it’s a stage whisper and it earns hostile looks from the rest of the group but a big grin from the Wizard she picked.

“Damn straight.” The Wizard, Hardison, insists they need an Illusionist: “I work my magic on things, man. She does hers on people.”

Sophie, the Illusionist, says they need a Trickster. “Believe me, I know just the guy. He’s magnificent.”

The Trickster winds up being Nate Ford, who ironically enough has a reputation for being an honest man.

They retrieve--which turns out to be rescue--the Princess for Lord Sterling using a convoluted plan, way more magic than Eliot likes to deal with and a lot of straight up bullshitting. And somehow Eliot winds up splitting his take five ways. They are all a pain in his ass at one point or another. It’s not the easiest job he’s ever done but somehow it’s the most fun. For the first time since he left the Army he feels like he’s got someone to watch his back, and having someone to watch out for ain’t bad either.

They stand around awkwardly after they’ve divided the gold, and Eliot is glad to see he’s not the only one reluctant to leave.

Sophie grins at them all. “So. I hear there’s a dragon terrorizing a town and a large reward for stopping him.”

Parker hops a little in place like a five year old. “I flew on a dragon’s back once. I like dragons.”

Hardison crosses his arms. “I have been working on a new fire shield spell.”

Nate nods thoughtfully. “I’ve dealt with dragons before. It wouldn’t take too long to come up with a plan to lure him away from town.”

They all look at Eliot expectantly and he shrugs and frowns at them, smothering down the grin that wants to pop out--he has a reputation to protect after all. “Fine, but Parker is _not_ driving!”

 

 

 

5\. **The Shaken not Stirred Job**

The slim, unobtrusive looking man gets on the bus and moves to the back, taking a seat against the window. Once the bus is in motion, he drops the iPod he is carrying and leans down, reaching under the set and picking up an exact duplicate. He plugs his headphones in, leans back against the seat and looking out of the window as he listens.

 

_“Good morning, Mr. Ford._

_Damien Moreau has fled to San Lorenzo and taken control of the government with the President as his puppet._

_Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to neutralize him as a threat. As always you have carte blanche to accomplish this by any means possible._

_We’ve taken the liberty of putting together a team for you---four IMF agents who we feel are best suited for this job._

The man keys forward through the video files, watching a few seconds of each agent at work.

Eliot Spencer--retrieval specialist.  
Alec Hardison--computer and engineering tech  
Parker--security and incursion specialist  
Sophie Devereaux--Disguise, infiltration and persuasion

_Remember, should you or any member of your team be captured or killed, we will disavow all knowledge of your assignment. This message will self destruct in sixty seconds._

 

The man stood up and got off the bus at the next stop. He walked at a semi-fast clip into an alley, tossing the iPod and headphones into the dumpster. He exited the alley at the same pace and there was a small boom behind him. The man never looked back, just slipped his hands in his pockets and walked down the street, whistling.

 

 

 

 

6\. **The Foster Home Job**

Parker had been out of juvie four months, two weeks and three days and out of her latest foster home four months, two weeks and one day when she tried to steal the beat up old pick-up parked in back of the gas station.

Her stupid hands were shaking a little bit. She’d only been boosting wallets and food since she was arrested, but it was going to be cold soon and she needed a bigger score--and that’s the only reason Eliot caught her--even though he said it was because he was better than she was.

Parker had learned her lesson about trusting people, but Eliot didn’t get mad at her for trying to steal his truck and he shared his dinner with her. Plus he didn’t want to get in her pants, she could always tell. So Parker figured it would be okay to hang with him for a little while as long as she didn’t expect anything--as long as she watched her own back.

Eliot had a fake ID that said he was eighteen. Trying to pass for twenty-one when he barely looked the sixteen he really was would only make people look closer at him. He had been sleeping in his truck but he said there wasn’t room for two people anyway and got them a room at one of those motels with the kitchenettes in them.

There was no way to run a good enough con to get her into school without an actual adult. Parker didn’t care, but Eliot did and he got them library cards and bought them GED manuals (because stealing books was wrong) and lectured her about the future until she studied just to make him shut up. Besides, she really liked the library. It was quiet and cool and Ms. Devereaux the librarian always smiled at her when she came in. Sitting at one of the tables reading, Parker felt just like everybody else.

 

Parker didn’t actually talk to people. Eliot didn’t count, plus he didn’t really talk to people either. Sometimes they went the whole day without talking and that was fine, but the little kid--Alec(he’d told her his name like five times until Parker told him hers back)--wouldn’t _stop_ talking.

Parker saw him at the library all the time. He wasn’t there with an adult but Parker noticed that Ms. Devereaux kept checking on him so she guessed that was okay even though he was really little. Bad things sometimes happened to little kids though so Parker kept an eye on him too. She didn’t think anybody noticed but one day, Ms. Devereaux came over to Parker and said she had to go somewhere but she’d be right back. She asked if Parker would keep an eye on the little kid and Parker said yes without thinking because Ms. Deveraux’s was trusting _her_. The proud smile she got made her stomach flip over and when Ms. Deveraux ran a hand over her hair the way she did the little kid’s sometimes, Parker had to swallow really hard and bite her lip.

The kid--Alec,Alec,Alec,Alec,Alec--came over and sat at the table with her, bringing a stack of books along. Most of them weren’t little kid books either. He grinned at her and then he started talking and never stopped. The baby tooth he was missing didn’t slow him down at all.

She was relieved when Ms. Devereaux came back and Alec left soon after, even if it was kind of weird for it to be so quiet all of a sudden. Except then Alec thought they were friends or something because he’d come sit by her everytime he saw her. Eliot stopped by to pick her up a couple of times and Alec was fascinated. He started imitating everything Eliot did which made Parker laugh but made Eliot say “Damn it, Alec!” which made Alec start saying damn it! Which made Parker laugh even more.

And then Parker and Eliot wound up walking Alec home one day and met his Nana. Parker never ate so much in her life and Nana just smiled and kept filling their plates and she gave them food to take home as a thank you for looking out for Alec and she said she always cooked too much anyway and they were doing her a favor and told them to come back. Parker was used to people lying to her it just usually wasn’t to help her.

 

 

Parker was standing by the door waiting on Alec to get his things when the cop walked up. She tensed even while her brain was screaming at her to relax and look innocent. She jumped when Alec ran back down the stairs, bumping into her legs.

“Hi Officer Ford!”

“Hi, Alec! Who’s your friend?” He looked back at Parker, giving her what Eliot called the stink eye.

It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t even stolen anything today.

Alec reached up and took her hand. His palm was a little sticky but Parker didn’t care when he squeezed tight. “This is Parker.”

“Parker huh?”

Alec nodded. “Yep. We’re going home.”

The look wasn’t suspicion then, it was pity and Parker hated it. She’d rather have the suspicion. She’d rather have anything. She wondered if everything about her screamed that she didn’t have a home. So what if her sweater cuffs were a little frayed or sometimes it was McDonald’s for breakfast, lunch and dinner, when the dollar menu was the best they could do. Eliot tried, they both did and this guy didn’t have a right to pity her. And he didn’t get to pity Alec either because Nana was awesome and mostly, Parker just wanted to kick him.

“Officer Ford!” Ms. Devereaux was practically running down the stairs to where they were, smiling. Parker wondered if she was psychic and knew Parker was about to get into trouble for assaulting a police officer.

The cop grinned and tipped his hat. “Ms. Devereaux. You’re looking lovely as usual.”

Ms. Devereaux blushed and batted the cop on the shoulder. “You flatterer you.”

Parker stared in fascination. She didn’t know real people acted like that. It was just like something out of one of those dumb romantic comedies Eliot secretly loved.

 

 

Parker thought Nana might be a witch--Eliot just rolled his eyes when she said so, and  
Alec giggled but well, obviously she was magic because she fixed it so that Parker was officially okay to stay with her, even though Parker should have been in a lot of trouble for running away from Ned and Anne.

Eliot was never in the system--even though he never told Parker how come he was living in his truck, but there was a lot of stuff she never told him either--and he refused to stay with Nana because he didn’t want to cause any problems. Nana had a friend that had a spare room in the back of his shop and he was willing to let Eliot have it just to have somebody there at night--acccording to Nana anyway--which, see magic. There was a bathroom and a sleeping area but no kitchen or anything so Eliot was over there for breakfast, lunch and dinner(Nana insisted she better see him for three meals a day). He stayed over to study--Nana had almost as many books as the library did--and did stuff around the house too.

Somehow it was months and months later and Parker hadn’t left yet, and she hadn’t stolen anything. Well, she’d stolen things, she just put them right back before anybody noticed. She had to stay in practice though, even if Eliot did give her his best ‘I hate the world’ frowny face when she told him so.

 

 

Alec grabbed her hand and pulled and Parker let him guide her through the house. She dragged her feet when they passed through the kitchen and she watched Eliot frowning in concentration as he mimicked Nana’s cutting motions. She knew he liked it here. He’d talked to Nana about joining the army next year when he turned eighteen for real. She figured there wasn’t any point in her sticking around after then--Eliot was gonna be a citizen and he didn’t need her hanging on like they were anything more than a team. And Nana and the other kids didn’t know her, not really--they didn’t deserve to be stuck with her when she was bound to slip up.

“Paaaarker! Come on!” Alec tugged harder, pulling her into the living room and thrusting his book at her.

“I don’t even know why you want me to read to you. You read as good as I do.” She sat down anyway, opening it to where they’d stopped the night before.

Alec climbed onto the sofa and curled up against her, resting his head on her arm. “I like your voice.”

 

“Dinner’s in twenty minutes!” Nana’s voice echoed through the house and Parker could hear Lisa and David arguing in the hall, and Jason complaining about not being able to find his shoes as usual. Alec was like a little heater against her side and Eliot walked through and ruffled her hair on the way to the bathroom, grinning when she swatted at him.

Maybe she could stay for a little while.

 

[ ](http://s3.photobucket.com/albums/y100/ceares/?action=view&current=Cearesdivider.png)


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